


Bruises In A Foreign City

by JulesDrabbles



Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Clubbing, Do I need to tag all the kinds of sex they will have, Drugs, Just add it later, Later in the story though, M/M, NSFW, Rich man - Freeform, Sex, Smut, Violence, drugs dealing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 21:01:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5885026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JulesDrabbles/pseuds/JulesDrabbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael Leroy Killian Chamberlain is a rich, unhappy business man, of the fine age 27. The American millionare is in London for a month of intense and important meetings and boring dinners. One night in his first week he is walking back from an official party, unaware that he is walking through the dangerous parts of London... The best and also worst choice of his life.</p><p>Angel Samual Finley is a 18 year old failure. He survives by dealing drugs in shady clubs and allyways, kicked out by his father when he was 16. One night he finds a beat up rich man on his way home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Intro, Shady Part Of Town

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very short intro into the story. 
> 
> I am also writing the SFW version of this story on my blog, https://julesstories.wordpress.com/portfolio/bruises-in-a-forgein-city/

London was beautiful, had always been beautiful. This was the reason why Mike wanted to walk back to the hotel at such a time, not being aware of the dangers it might bring with it. As a foreigner he didn’t know the shady parts of town, he just looked at google maps and took the quickest walk back.

London was a city of class, of rich people throwing their money left and right so Michael never guessed that such a rich and wealthy European city was as corrupt and shitty like New York. Quite naïve.

Deep in thought, the young American didn’t notice that the people walking with him looked suspicious, and how could he? Maybe he was in a bit less wealthy part of town, that didn’t make him more aware of dangers. After all British people were polite, right?

Suddenly someone lashed out at him, feet clumsily stumbling backwards, suitcase dropped with the shock. The three boys, around 15/17, could’ve just grabbed it then and run off right then and there. For some reason they wanted more out of it.

Michael, struggling and yelling them to get the hell away from him, was roughly pushed against the wall. “Quick! Check his pockets!” The oldest of the three said, holding him up.

“Fuck, stop moving,” One of the others said to Michael, who only got more infuriated with this demand. Mike managed to get his left hand free and tried to punch the guy in front of him as hard as he could. He hit the thug’s nose hard, something cracking under Michael’s knuckles, triggering his gag reflex. He had never done something like this, nothing so bloody and aggressive. His own lip was split, the taste of metal on his tongue.

“Is there nobody out there! Help! I’m..” His voice was cut off with a hard punch right on his left cheek. The pain was unbearable, and he didn’t know how to stop it. Couldn’t they just take his shit and leave? Why did he have to fight back. Maybe they were even going to murder him! Michael groaned and cried under the hand tightly closed around his mouth. The side of his assaulter’s fingers were pressed to the underside of Mike’s nose, making it hard to breath. He made unrecognisable pleads and begging, but it wasn’t working very well. He pissed them off so bad. Tears rolled over Michael’s cheeks from pain and lack of oxygen. It didn’t cause any form of sympathy of his attackers.

“Shut the fuck up! You broke my nose you motherfucker!” He got a few more punches, some in his stomach, some on his face. The young man bend over from pain, a big mistake. A sharp elbow met with the back of Michael’s head, blackness taking over his mind.


	2. Awaken, Dumbass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here he is then, the loser.

He woke up with a strange smell in his nose, a smell he didn’t recognise. He was laying on his back, on a bed. A shitty hard bed that was. Michael groaned and put a hand over his eyes. It was bright as fuck, even with his eyes closed. His head throbbed but.. It didn’t feel like a hangover. What happened last night? It slowly started coming back, and he realised that he didn’t know where he was.

  
He shot up in bed, a gasp escaping past his lips when he did so. The room he was in had a high ceiling and was very minimalistic. No curtains in front of the big windows, the mattress he was on just on the floor and the other two pieces of furniture were a desk and a small wardrobe. The room was not very spacious, either.  
But that all didn’t matter, what mattered was the strange face looking at him. Brown piercing eyes met with the soft grey one’s of Michael, and he didn’t know what to say. He was confused and hurt all over, not really in the good state of mind to discuss everything that had happened.  
“Someone finally woke up then.” It was a boy, just a boy around 18 years sitting against the wall across from the Michael.  
“Where… Am I? What time is it? Where is my stuff? Who are you? Do you have a phone?” He didn’t take a break asking these question leaving no space for the boy to actually answer, slowly everything becoming clearer by the second. The kid smiled before saying anything, silence hanging in the air for a few seconds while he was observing.  
“You’re still in London don’t worry, it’s around half past 12 right now, I don’t know where all your stuff is but I managed to find your passport, which is one of the most important things for you right now, mister Chamberlain, right?” He chuckled. “I’m Angel, no joke, that’s actually my name. My mother was a flower power, freedom, peace kinda woman. I do, actually.”

  
Michael didn’t know what to say, having lost his voice. Angel didn’t push it, which was something he could appreciate. Mike started wondering, why Angel hadn’t called somebody? That seemed like a more logical thing to do then pull a unconscious man all the way to his tiny flat. “Thank you.” Mike mumbled, the important multimillionaire suddenly feeling small. “Why didn’t you call an ambulance, Angel?”

  
The boy took a deep breath and stood up, walking to his desk and picking up a box of cigarettes. “You looked so important, with your suitcase. Maybe you were some sort of drug cartel leader I wouldn’t know. I saw your injuries weren’t that bad as they looked.” Michael nodded, understanding Angel’s way of thinking. But… Even when that was the case it still didn’t fill the whole image. If he had been a big guy of the underworld, it seemed even stranger for Angel to take him into his home, his personal life. He was still too tired to think logically right now. God dammit, his head hurt so fucking much. It was so weird that he already trusted him to not be some creepy freak who raped him when he was unconscious. Maybe it was because of the name, he didn’t know and right now he didn’t care.  
Michael slowly moved back into his laying down position, arm around his ribs. Angel sat down on the other side of the mattress, cigarette between his fingers. “Was I right? Are you some sort of awesome mafia kinda guy?”

  
Michael lightly chuckled. “No, just a guy taking a walk.”

  
“Dressed like that?”

  
“Dressed like that. I was coming back from a party and not bothered with taking a cab.” That sounded stupid, he realised. Angel smiled at him and shook his head.

  
“Wasn’t a good place for walk, sir." Michael rolled his eyes.

“Don’t call me sir. Mike will do. What were you doing there when it’s such a bad place?” He asked curiously, eyebrows raised. Angel smiled and shrugged.

“Things, not interesting. Not as interesting as what happened to you. Where are you staying? I could call a cab for you, but if you want to lay here for some time that’s fine, I don’t have anything to do during the day.” Why was Angel being so fucking nice to him? He didn’t have a reason to at all. Michael wondered what he would’ve done if he stumbled across Angel in such a state. Probably called an ambulance and got on with his life, maybe calling the hospital to check if he was okay but… Drag him to his apartment, wait for him to wake up and make sure he was alright? Michael, to his own shame, would probably never do that.

  
“I was just walking home when these three thugs came up to me and started beating me up, stealing everything for me. They could’ve just taken my suitcase and run for it but they wanted to check my pockets too? Which had nothing but my keys in it. I punched them back, making them mad and knocking me out.” That was all there was really, Mike was sad now that it wasn’t so exciting as it felt in his head. His throbbing, burning, dead and hellish head that was.  
“Better then to just drop and run, I mean you stood up for yourself, which means something you know?” Angel had finished his cigarette and put the bud in the bowl that was probably only there for that reason.

  
Mike closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.  
“You’re hurtin, I have some jack for you. Might have some drugs that will do you well.” Mike heard him stand up and walked to the closet, opening a drawer. His eyes opened and he raised his brows. Drugs? Why did this kid have drugs in his flat?

  
“I don’t take any drugs.” He mumbled, not going into it further. Not his business. Mike decided to just focus on not moving right now.

  
“Do you want any aspirin then? That’s not bad right?” Something landed next to Mike’s head with a thud. Mike opened his eyes and saw that a package of aspirins landed right next to his head. He pushed two out and into his mouth, swallowing them whole because he was too lazy to ask for water. Angel continued to walk around a bit, walking in and out of what Mike assumed was his bathroom and kitchen. He didn’t pay attention to it.

  
Michael was surprising himself with how chill he was about the whole situation. He should probably report to the police, but at the same time didn’t really feel like doing any of that. What was it gonna do, in the end they still had his phone and wallet. He was already happy that Angel had saved his passport. He decided to sit up again, rubbing his hands at his back. He was still wearing his dress shirt, but the tie and coat where missing. He looked around the room a bit more and saw them hanging over the chair. Michael stood up, slowly and carefully because his ribs hurt and lifted up his shirt. His stomach was scattered with yellow and purple bruises

  
Angel shouldn’t have walked in on right then, but he did, even when he knew what Mike was doing. He leaned against the door post and stared at Michael’s chest. He blew low through his teeth and this made the American look up and quickly pull his shirt back down.

  
“That looks painful man, do you want some ice for that? Maybe you should go see a doctor.” Angel said as advice but Michael shook his head.

  
“No it doesn’t hurt that much at all” He lied and smiled. “But that ice you talked about would be great.” He said with a shy undertone. Angel nodded and walked back into the kitchen to grab a bag of frozen peas. Michael took this time to check himself out in the mirror standing atop of Angel’s small wardrobe.  
He slowly traced fingers over the gift his robbers had left him, intrigued by the colours it left. He sighed as he traced his fingers over the big purple mark on his cheek and the sight of his split lip. It didn’t look professional at all, he needed to remind himself to get some concealer. God dammit he didn’t have any money! He took a deep breath and realised those were problems for later. He wasn’t dead, that was most important.

  
Angel walked back in to the bedroom with the bag of frozen peas, a towel and some cling wrap. “Sit down, I’ll patch you up.”  
Michael did as he was told, sitting down on the chair, watching Angel get to work. He wrapped the bag of peas in the towel, pressing it carefully against Michael’s ribs. “Can you hold this for me there?” Angel was crouching next to the chair and looked up, smiling friendly. Mike hadn’t noticed the scar the boy had on his throat.. it was thin and white, almost faded. Michael nodded and Angel wrapped the cling wrap around his stomach to secure the peas in their place. “This should do the trick.” Angel stood up again and so did Mike. Fuck the guy was tall. How could he be so tall? He was like a fucking teenager, teenagers shouldn’t be so tall! “Mike? Do you want to go back to the place you’re staying at?” Michael swallowed and nodded. He didn’t really, he would have to face the shit that had become this fucking trip.

“Yeah, but uhm…”

“You can lay down a bit longer if you wish.” Angel motioned to the mattress. “I mean, you’re still pretty messed up. It’s okay, we will see into getting you back later.”

“No I think I should leave now.” Mike grabbed his coat and tie, knowing it would be better for him to get out now then later. “I need to call the police…” He paused for a moment. “I need your number too.” Mike said it in the least flirtatious way possible. Yes, he probably needed Angel to testify for him, but god, kid was good looking.  
Angel walked over to his desk and pulled out a small piece of paper and pen, quickly scribbling it down. He turned around and gave it to Michael, using that god damn smile again.

“Here, don’t be afraid to call me.” Michael smiled back.

“I won’t.” He pulled on his shoes and bid Angel goodbye, for now.


End file.
